Page 90 of A Violet Obsession

However, the biggest question is still unanswered.

What the hell did I do with the necklace after walking out of the room?

It has to still be in the auction house. The police searched me that night. Searched my purse, my pockets, all of it, and then more cops searched the building after⁠—

My hands buzz with a now familiar feeling. I don’t know why the whispers have suddenly reappeared in my life after ten years, but I’m learning to listen to them.

Run. Run.

Oh God—Finn.

He’s still out there somewhere, completely exposed, and I have no way to reach him. What if he’s already in danger? What if I leave and something happens to him? I can’t just abandon him, but I can’t stay here either⁠—

What the hell do I do?

The whispers are louder now, screaming in my ears, hissing like static in my skull. My heart slams against my ribs, my hands shaking so badly I can barely think straight.

Run. Run.

The front door bangs open. Before I can scream, I recognize Finn’s silhouette in the doorway, his face carved in harsh lines.

“Alert on the trail cams. Armed men incoming.” He’s already moving, snatching up the rifle. “We have to go. Now.”

“Hera!” I yell, bolting for the back door. Finn’s hand clamps around my wrist, yanking me back.

“No time.”

“I’m not leaving her⁠—”

“She’s safer here on her own than out there with us. I’ll send someone.” His grip is iron. “Lily, look at me.” His eyes lock on mine. “You remember what I said?”

I swallow hard and nod, the directions he gave me echoing in my head. But my heart is already breaking at the thought of following them.

We burst out of the door. His hand stays locked around mine as we sprint.

The open ground between the cabin and the tree line feels impossibly wide—wider than it did this morning. The growl of engines grows louder behind us. My heart slams against my ribs as I fight back tears, terrified for Hera.

She’s smart. She’ll hide. Someone will come for her. Finn promised.

We’ve just reached the trees when ATVs roar into the clearing. Through the branches, I catch dark shapes hunched over the handlebars.

Finn holds his arm up across my face, shielding me from the low branches as we crash through the trees. Shouts echo behind us as my tennis shoes skid over pine needles and patches of old snow in the shaded spots.

Bark explodes beside our heads. Finn curses, releases my hand, and shoves his gun into my palm without breaking stride.

He yanks me behind a thick stand of trees and pulls me to a stop. For a split second, all I can think about is the thousand things I never said to him. I might not get another chance.

“Downhill. Zig-zag,” he says, his expression impassive. “When you hit the road, stay in the brush. First house—call Elite. Grab blankets, whatever you need, then get back into the trees and wait. You’ll be fine. They’ll get you out.”

I want to scream. What about you? But there’s no time.

He grips my chin hard and presses cold lips to mine.

“Don’t look back, baby. No matter what. Don’t look back.”

Then he’s gone—sprinting away, lifting his rifle and opening fire. The roar of the muzzle flash draws every gun toward him and away from me.

I run.